Frozen
by SnowWriter
Summary: Kurt is emotionally and physically abused for being who he is. He's all alone. Can he find any hope at his new school, Dalton? Possible Klaine, OCs, AU, a bit of OOC-ness


**Disclaimer! I don't own Glee!**

**Okay, okay. I know I shouldn't be starting anything new but I can't help it! **

**The Klaine bug has gotten me BAD. Anyway...**

**BTW, I do NOT support treating your kid or anybody this way. I'm fine with boys who love boys and girls who love girls and people who love both and boys who love girls and girls who love boys. **

**I also do NOT support any language like "fag" "queer" "fairy" etc. I'm just using it for the sake of the story.**

**Thanks for reading! **

**Please review! All comments are greatly appreciated. :)**

* * *

**_Kurt's POV_  
**

Let's say your gay. You probably aren't - only what? - Ten percent? Of people are. Approximately. Though, considering there are 6,840,507,003 people in the world, there are 684, 050, 700 people who are gay.

But the number of people in the world changes when you ask someone else. Some might say seven billion. Some might say something else.

You wonder how there could be different numbers of people in the world. Are some of them not there? Are they invisible? Is there some sort of conspiracy going on? Are they a vampire or a centaur? Do centaurs get counted as people? Do kids? If you kill someone are you a person? Is you're status as a human being get taken away if you take anothers? What about people were kidnapped? Are they counted in the population?

You have a lot of questions.

Why is there abuse? Why is there hunger? Why don't people just use paint instead of nail polish?

One thing you're pretty sure of is there is only one you.

You know that there are five Kurt Hummels in the US. ... Probably. Some might of fallen off the grid or they're centaurs or something.

But you know there's only one you you.

Only one Kurt Hummel who's like _this_.

It's doubtful that the other Kurt Hummels are gay. Ten percent chance remember?

It's also doubtful that they hate themselves as much as you do.

They probably not as alone either.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

You're father is particularly angry today.

He yells and screams at you. Asking why you turned out this way, why you turned into such a disgusting _thing_.

Everything gets muddled up too quickly and too... You don't know. You-you believe your family when they say you're a disgrace, a blemish on the family name. You _are_ worthless and ugly and disgusting. But some part of you - a little little part of you - thinks maybe that's not true. _They're_ the ones who are worthless and ugly and disgusting. And if they can't see how awesome you are that's their loss. You're not sure but you think you had a friend that would've said it just like that.

When your father walks away, leaving you broken and bloodied on the kitchen floor you laugh slightly. Because you _do_ deserve this. That little voice - that little part of you that's not defeated - is wrong. You know it is.

The next morning after your father has left for work your mother tells you in that condescending tone she has adopted ever since you came out that you'll be going to a new bording school and that the only reason why you left the last one was because you were expelled for spreading the gay.

You whole heatedly agree while the little voice says, "No. The principle told me that my parents had pulled me out."

But you're good at ignoring it.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The limo that drops you off a week later drives away quickly, spitting out loose gravel from beneath its wheels.

The building you face is large and impressive with a great cement staircase leading up to impressive oak doors.

A small tidy man waits at the top for you and shakes you warmly by the hand smiling kindly. You blink at the contact that doesn't involve pain.

"Welcome, Mr. Hummel. I hope you'll find your stay at Dalton enjoyable."

You swallow and manage to speak without too much trouble. "It looks very nice, sir." He doesn't seem put off by your distant reply.

"Let me show you to your rooms. I'm sure you will want to get settled."

The man glances to you, clearly expecting a reply. "Rooms?"

"Yes. You're parents made sure to specify you to have a private room. Said you're quite an artist and you don't like to be disturbed." The man laughs joyfully.

As you walk to your room, the man talks about the school's history and rules and how much he's sure you'll like it here. You don't listen because you know you won't be staying here long enough to care.

When you reach your door he turns to you and says, "I'll leave you to get settled then alright? Please come to me for anything you need. I've asked you one of our students to show you around the campus in a little while."

"Alright. Thank you." He nods and walks away quickly probably ready to throw up just by being near you.

You open the door and it's exactly what you expected: Extravagant. And empty.

The large sitting room has a huge white leather couch pointed towards a large flat screen TV, in front of it is a glass coffee table. In a corner there are six mahogany chairs surrounding a large dining table draped in a pure white table cloth. There's a small mini fridge and an empty bookcase. A fake sheep skin rug is lying on the dark hardwood floor. Behind a door there's a bedroom with a heavy white duvet and at least ten white, cream, and silver pillows piled on top of it. The closet is huge and your clothes - all designer - are already in place. Through another door there's a study with a large window seat with deep green curtains around it. The large desk is completely bare except for a brand new laptop sitting on the top. There are more rooms but you don't feel like looking through them.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

An hour later, a knock comes from the door. You snap from your daydream like someone just threw a bucket full of cold water on you.

Another knock comes and then another. "Hello? Is anyone there? I'm supposed to show you around the school," a warm voice informs you.

"Uh... Just - just a moment." You scurry from your spot on the couch.

"Are you still moving in? I can help you if you want. We don't have to go on the tour right now."

You open the door, your eyes downcast.

"No. No, I don't have to unpack." You whisper. But to you it sounds like a normal voice, you've been quiet for so long.

"Really? Usually people take a while to get settled in." The voice tells you and the only image you can pair with the voice is shoes because that's what you're staring at. Shiny, black shoes.

You don't have anything to say so you don't say it.

You're sure everyone's already heard about the fag that just walked onto campus claiming to be a new student. They're probably already getting something all prepared so they can "greet" you.

"...Um... Can I come in?" The shoes shuffle awkwardly. Your heart plummets. You didn't think you'd get hurt so soon. You step aside and close the door softly after he's walked in.

* * *

_**Blaine's POV**  
_

_I've never seen anyone so gorgeous before_, is my first thought when I see the new student. All I can see is his perfectly styled hair and slight build but that's still enough to take my breath away.

As I walk into his room I try to think of a way so I can spend the most time possible with him.

"Uh... well, if you'd like I can just tell you the rules right now and then we'll go on the tour so your brain doesn't get too overwhelmed." I laugh anxiously and direct a hundred watt smile in his direction but frown when I see he's still looking at the ground. "Oh! Sorry, my name's Blaine." I stick a hand out to him which he eyes warily.

"...Kurt." He says it so softly I almost don't hear him. He doesn't shake my hand.

"Well, Kurt, mind if I sit down?" I sit on the plush couch and sigh closing my eyes for a brief moment.

A small weight joins me.

"First off, don't give Jeff any candy. He's hyper enough as is. And don't sneeze or vomit on David... He'll freak. And don't give candy to him. And... actually don't give candy to anyone here, okay? Oh, by the way, don't bug Terrence the janitor. He's really grumpy. I... guess that's it!"

He still won't look at me. "Hey, I won't bite." My hands catch his chin and I lift his face up so his eyes meet mine. My breath leaves my lungs in a gasp. "Just ask me for anything, all right?"

He yanks his face from my grasp. "Could you leave?" I'm left speechless. "Please?"

I jump off the couch. "Oh. Yes, yes. Of course. You probably want to be left alone, huh?...Well, I'll let you get settled in. Tell me when you want that tour."

"Actually, I probably won't need a tour. I'm going to be tutored so I don't need to find any classes." He stands and leads me to the door all but throwing me out. The smile he gives me isn't a real one. "Bye, Blaine. Nice meeting you."

The door closes in my face.


End file.
